Dream Team vs The Ink Machine
by BrownieFox
Summary: Hell's Studio Sammy Lawrence finds himself in the canon studio. While perhaps not the help Henry was expecting, he'll take what he can get. Starts at the end of chapter 2. Updates every Sunday.
1. Chapter 1

Henry sighed a bit as Sammy made his way towards the door. It was quite obvious the man had completely lost it at some point over the past thirty years, driven insane and desperate and… inky. He wasn't really sure whether the sigh was relief at no longer having the man leaning so far into his personal space, or sadness at the man's fate.

But then, to Henry's surprise, Sammy stopped short, mid-stride. He made an odd, almost choking like sound as his flew to his chest, grabbing at the ink there, fingers sinking in a bit.

"Wh-"

And then, just like that, Sammy burst. Like a water balloon, or one of the searchers upon taking one too many blows. A few flecks of ink managed to make it all the way to Henry, splattering across his face, and Henry grimaced. He's probably going to need to start getting used to being covered in ink constantly, but now was not the time to start worrying about that too much, seeing as Sammy wasn't gone. He was still exactly where he had been, though he was doubled over now, coughing up a concerning about of ink.

And oh yeah. He had a face. And skin and hair and real eyes. He was still wearing a pair of old overalls, but he looked rather… okay, all things considered. Smudged with ink, but not made of ink.

"I swear, Joey, if that-" Sammy started, but then cut himself off as he opened his eyes and stared at his hands. He opened and closed them, rubbing the fingers against each other, turning them over. And then he fell back on his butt and laughed, a couple of tears cascading down his face. "Oh my god it worked, it actually worked!"

"Uh… Sammy?" Henry dared to get the man's attention.

"Yeah Hen- What Are You Doing?" Sammy's odd good mood that had existed not a second ago dissipated, a familiar scowl on his face.

"Nothing of my own volition." Sammy cocked one of his eyebrows but didn't respond to that, slowly pushing himself back to his feet and looking around. "... could you maybe help untie me?"

Still looking warily at the ruins of the studio, Sammy approached Henry and undid the bonds. The animator immediately went over and grabbed his axe, sizing up Sammy a bit more, but Sammy wasn't paying too much attention to him. Instead, he was staring down at the odd pentagram-esque circle where Henry had previously been standing.

"Did Joey do this?" Sammy sounded more… exasperate than Henry thought he may be. What with all of the 'The Creator Lied To Us' plastered on just about every other wall, Henry would've expect a bit more hate in his voice. And there was some anger, definitely anger, but not really hate.

"I've begun to assume so."

"What do you mean 'assume'? Do you know anybody else covering the studio in pentagrams for the sake of toons?" Sammy dragged a foot - a barefoot, ink-stained - across the outermost circle, smudging it.

Before Henry could say anything in response to that, there was a sound not unlike Sammy 'popping' just a few minutes before, and Henry spun around to see a few new springs of ink in the room. He'd love to say he was surprised, but with every moment fewer and fewer things were coming as surprises to him.

"What the hell are those?!" Sammy shouted as the searchers pulled their way out, desperately and eagerly crawling towards the two of them. Henry rolled his shoulders, rather used to this by now, and started swinging his axe. The searchers were defeated in short time, but an unearthly howling scream kept either of the men from relaxing.

"I don't think now is going to be the best time to explain." Sammy seemed to catch onto the urgency, shutting up and following behind Henry as he made them a path forward. It was quiet, far too quiet as they made their way to the nearest available door. Before they could even start wading through ink, however, things got a whole lot worse.

Henry made an odd sound between a growl and shout as the skeletal mistake of nature and ink that a blind person may mistake for Bendy twisted his way out of the dark pool, spider-webbing black spilling out onto the walls around him. Sammy yelped as Henry spun around, grabbing his wrist with his free hand and running back in the opposite direction. They managed to make it to a room - with an actual opening and closing door, how rare those seemed to come by here - and Henry shoved anything he could against it.

Not that there seemed to be much reason. The ink-stains didn't creep into the room, and Bendy didn't so much as try the handle or attempt to take down the door.

"What the hell is going on, Henry? What the hell was that- that monster?!" Sammy grabbed Henry's shirt, staring the other in the eyes desperately. Henry set one of his hands on top of Sammy's.

"My best guess? Bendy, or whatever messed-up version the ink machine was able to make."

Sammy's brow furrowed and he stepped back, letting go of Henry.

"No- that's not- Bendy doesn't look like that."

"I know. I designed and animated him, Sammy."

"But even when Joey first made Bendy, he didn't look like that. And eventually he got Bendy to look on model." Sammy continued. Henry blinked in confusion.

"You were… you were there when he did it?"

"No, but I thought you were. You knew before I did." He almost sounded accusatory.

"I didn't know any of this was going on until I came back here yesterday!" Henry all but shouted back, the nerves and stress and confusion beginning to get to him.

There was silence.

"... I'm starting to think Joey may've really messed up this time." Sammy sighed.

Three knocks echoed through the room from the second, unbarricaded door.

oOo

"Welp. You've really messed him up now Joey."

Bendy stood on a table in an effort to get as far away from Sammy as possible. Not only was he still made of ink, he now had a nice new Bendy mask and was called Bendy 'My Lord' while seemingly missing his entire bag of marbles. Meanwhile, Joey was flipping through one of his tomes.

"I CAN FIX THIS!"


	2. Chapter 2

Henry hefted the axe a bit more, watching as the door knob turned, the door slowly creaking open. Out of it peaked a wolfish face, ears perked, pie-cut eyes curiously looking over Sammy and Henry. Despite himself, Henry lowered the axe slightly, watching the toon before him.

"... Boris?"

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see your mug." Sammy stepped out from behind Henry, walking right over to Boris and swinging to the door completely open. At least the wolf's chest was no longer cut open, in fact it showed no signs of the gruesome sight Henry had seen on the first floor.

Boris wrapped Sammy in a hug, and Henry prepared to fight off the toon in case he decided to start attacking, but to his immense relief Boris let Sammy go after a moment. He then moved on to Henry himself and before the man could do anything, he found himself wrapped in the same tight hug. He hadn't realize how badly he needed this - some kind of physical reassurance - until now.

"It's good to see not everything in here is corrupt." Henry sighed, returning the hug before eventually pulling away.

"Boris, what is going on here?" Sammy asked Boris, but the toon's face just turned sad as he looked down at the floor. A moment later the look was gone as he went back to the door, gesturing for them to follow him. "C'mon Boris, I know I'm not always the nicest guy, but throw me a bone here."

"I'm not sure the toons can talk." Henry shrugged, following after Boris. He was honestly the best bet they had right now for survival. "The searches hardly make any sound, and all Bendy has done so far is scream. The only one I heard talk was…" Henry trailed off. It had been Sammy, but that was inky Sammy. Every since the 'pop', there was definitely something different with man. Perhaps he was back to the state he'd been in before whatever had happened to the studio? But then why had he mentioned knowing Bendy…

"God I *wish* toons couldn't talk." Sammy groaned. "Then again, I'm sure Bendy would find ways to be even more annoying without using words."

"Did you know Bendy before he became that ink monster?" Henry asked.

"Henry, I'm almost positive that monster isn't Bendy. Bendy is a pain, a little demon, but Joey hasn't messed with Bendy since he got him on model." Sammy glanced around at the hallway. "... where are we anyway? That first room looked kinda like a part of the music department, but this, I have no clue where we are."

"That makes two of us." Henry sighed. "Then again, last time I was here there wasn't half as much ink everywhere, much less anything that was alive because of it."

"Last time you were here?" Sammy looked at Henry, opened his mouth to say something, closed it, and then opened it again. "When was the last time you were here?"

"You were there when I left." Henry pointed out. Even though Sammy wasn't always the best person to be around, he was still apart of the studio and Henry had taken the time to say a final farewell to anybody he knew well enough - which was, essentially, the entire studio. Sammy had even seen a bit upset over Henry leaving, though there was also ink dripping on his head at the time which could've also caused the look.

"Humor me." Sammy scowled.

"I left after the big argument Joey and I had. God, I can hardly even remember what it was about. But it was enough that I left, didn't hear from Joey again for thirty years."

"Thirty *years*?" Sammy stopped, staring at Henry incredulously, then murmured quietly to himself, "I thought you looked older."

"Something odd is going on here." Henry said when he knew they were both thinking. Their stories weren't lining up with each other. "Before you saw me, what was the last thing you remember."

"A pipe burst, I was covered in ink - and for some reason completely made of ink. I swear nothing good ever comes from that that machine. Joey tried out some black magic to fix me, and then I was coughing up lung-fulls of ink and you were tied up." Henry hummed in response, not quite sure what to make of this.

"Whatever's going on, I don't like it, but we're better off if we work and stay together." Henry looked to Sammy, and Sammy nodded agreement.

They were both a bit in over their heads and understandings.

oOo

Boris led them to what Henry could only describe as a bunker, and at least both he and Sammy could agree that if nothing else, this definitely wasn't here before. There was a moment of panic when the metal door closed rather loudly, the lever to open it missing, but Boris didn't take the moment to attack or kill them, so both men considered everything to still be more or less fine. Boris was even kind enough to offer Sammy a cleaner pair of overalls and a pair of shoes, though unfortunately it would seem the wolf had not seen a reason to keep a shirt on hand. As a kindness in return, or perhaps just because it was freaky, both Sammy and Henry came to a silent agreement not to talk about Boris'... collage.

He did, thankfully, have a few bandages. Afterall, with everything that had gone down in the last few hours, Henry had come out of it far from unscathed. The following day was spent resting up in the relative peace that was Boris' Bunker, playing some poker with the numerous cans of Bacon Soup as the chips, and attempting to sort out what was going on.

The conclusion that Henry and Sam were able to reach was that Joey Has Messed Up and that despite conflicting stories, they had to trust someone and that person may as well be each other if they wanted to get out of here eventually.

Boris himself seemed trustworthy enough, not to mention the toon had a crazy good poker face. Sammy still seemed determined to find a way to get Boris to talk, that the wolf was capable of doing it. Boris had made a few sounds, like a whimpering in the night or a small bark-like sound if he needed their attention, but nothing close to words. What Henry wouldn't give to see the toons Sammy described, able to speak and being a part of the studio.

And when morning came - at least, according to the clock on the wall - both men were decided that it was time to move out. It was nice here, safe, but either man wanted to stay in the studio forever. With Boris once more leading the way, the trio set off.

After Boris climbed into the vents, the silence of the group of finished.

"Do we trust him?" Sammy whispered.

"Do we have much of a choice? I mean, he looks on model, he's been friendly so far." Henry shrugged. "You seemed all for trusting him when we first met."

"That's when I thought he was my Boris. But my Boris talks, and likes to show off his clarinet skills. This Boris… I don't know him." Sammy shook his head.

"... why were you wearing his overalls?"

"Oh, my clothes got all covered in ink and I needed something new to wear. And it wasn't like I could just go home and grab a change of clothes. The studio may've been fine with toons and crazy happenings, but the outside, blissfully sane world has no idea what was going on in these studio walls. Shoes weren't too much of a problem considering my feet were… questionable at best. When I was just ink, being shirtless didn't seem like too big of an issue, but now… I'd really love a shirt." Sammy sighed, patting his chest.

"Who knows, maybe next room with have something helpful." Henry suggested. As if on cue the door began to rise, and Henry got a bit more of an idea of how out of place they were.

"'Heavenly Toys'?" Sammy snorted as they entered the gigantic room. It was nice to no longer be in a hall, but toys weren't too much better.

"We had a toy department, sure, but last I checked it wasn't nearly this big." Henry gestured to the giant Boris plush. There was also a very unsettling waterfall of ink coming from the sign.

"Neither is the one I remember. I know Shawn's been asking for an upgrade though, what with Alice starting to get so popular and demand for her toys on the rise." Sammy nudged a small bendy plush with his foot, making it squeak a bit in return. "What has happened here that every other door needs a freaking lever to open it?"

"The same thing where every door that I probably need to go through is blocked up or broken." Henry grimaced at said door in the following room. Why would anybody even put that shelf there. This room, oddly enough, was a bit familiar, if only for the toy machine off to the side. It looked like somebody had been using it and then just… stopped, up and left in the middle of work. Sitting off to side of the machine was a table, holding most notably a cassette player and a bowl with an ink figure of Bendy.

"Do you remember Joey making us make these?" Henry held it up for Sammy to see.

"Like I could forget. He *still* makes us record them at least once a month. For 'posterity' or whatever." Sammy groaned.

"I did find some of yours upstairs. I never knew you had a secret sanctuary." Sammy made a squawking noise as Henry clicked play, the familiar voice of Shawn coming through.

"My sanctuary is none of you business!" Sammy snapped once the recording finished.

"Why do you have a toilet in there?" Henry asked as he inspected some of the machinery around them, pulling out the various plushies stuck between gears.

"None of your Business!" Sammy repeated with a growl. Henry chuckled and threw the lever, starting up the toy machine again and moving the shelves that had been in their way.

"Hey, we all need places where we pull all-nighters. I used to do it in just about anybody's workplace that wasn't my own - Joey's office, the recording booth, next to the ink machine. Being where I wasn't 'supposed' to be just helped me stay awake somehow. Like how fun it is to sit on a table instead of a chair." They pushed forward into the next room and both stopped in the doorway.

It was like an Alice museum, cutouts of the character behind glass windows, small tvs with her face sticking out of the walls. As soon as they stepped farther inside the door slammed shut and the lights cut out, Alice's signature song quietly playing in the background.

"Are you… humming to it?" Henry whispered. Sammy glared back.

"Hey, you try not singing along to something you spend days working on."

"You don't hear me screaming along to 'B- AAAAAH"

Just as the song reached yet another verse of 'I'm Alice Angel' it cut off, and in the scene at the front of the room - and the only one lit - a creature that almost resembled the angelic-devilish character popped up, shouting the line and pounding on the glass. And with it, the last of the lights in the room switched off.

Henry could feel Sammy pressing closer to him until they were back to back. Neither men were really fighters, but they were both determined not to die in this hell of a studio.

"I see you there," The sing-song voice whispered through the air, seeming to come from all around them. Henry's heart hammered in his ribcage. "Two little flies, caught in my web… Come along now."

"It can't be…" Sammy whispered, hardly a breath, but Henry still heard him. He fumbled in the dark until he found the musician's hand and squeezed it, desperately attempting to convey the dire need for silence right now.

"Let's see if you're worthy to walk with angels."

Cold air passed by Henry's ear. He swore he could almost feel her lips touching him, ghosting over the side of his head. Against his better judgement, every part of him froze up. Sure, he'd been able to take ink monsters charging at him, but this, this was something else. Something much more powerful, more intelligent.

Behind him, he could feel the muscles in Sammy's shoulder move, elbow moving to the side that Her voice was coming from, jabbing into the air and hitting nothing.

The lights flickered back on, allowing them to see the shattered glass of the window and the lutter lack of anything else in the room besides the two of them.

"Dammit!" Sammy spun around, eyes sharply looking to every corner and above every doorway.

"Hey, she's not in here anymore, calm down." Henry tried to reason. Sammy just shot him a very paranoid glare.

"Never let your guard down when you're with a toon. Unless it's Boris. Even then, Boris usually means Bendy isn't far behind." Which, well, there was probably a good point to that. Henry looked again at the shattered glass.

"Do you think she was trapped in there?"

"No." Sammy edged away from the window, towards the now conveniently-open wall. "Didn't you hear what she said? I'm willing to bet she's rarely anywhere she doesn't want to be. Never underestimate a toon."

"I don't suppose you have a good list of 101 things, Mr. Toon extraordinaire?" Henry asked, only half-joking.

"I'd love to say I wrote the book myself, but I had some help from my fellow employees. Sadly, the list is all back where I'm from. You'll just have to be a fast learner." A beat of silence. "... she doesn't look like Alice."

"And you're surprised, even after 'Bendy'?" Sammy's walk slowed, enough that Henry was able to catch up next to him.

"Alice… I, may favor her a bit over the others. And her voice… that's not the voice of Alice Angel." There was something in his eyes, something that Henry couldn't quite place but that left a sinking feeling in her stomach, the same feeling he'd been filled with during the war. When people mentioned things as if to foreshadow, saying something without knocking on enough wood. Something that would come and bite them in the butt sooner rather than later.

And against Henry's better judgement, he let it go for now.


End file.
